Forest Floors

Even still, the depth of color of moss in the forest breaks my heart

Shades of floral emerald taste like buttery, savory limes

And sound like softly humming celli in the distance

 Flirting with the soil, laying with water and sauntering up tree trunks

In a silent affair with the sun

those green patches move me to tears

The color true, the texture deep and soft

I wish to be like moss

Vulnerable, resilient, polyamorous 

Thriving in spite of the season

A place to find rest and unafraid to grow

Securely mounted, but lacking roots to hold me down

Lush and hidden unless you seek me...